


Pavlovian Response

by Waldo



Category: NCIS: Los Angeles
Genre: Community: ncisdaily, Established Relationship, M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-06
Updated: 2010-03-06
Packaged: 2017-10-07 18:17:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/67859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Waldo/pseuds/Waldo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"G knew that Sam knew G had a ridiculously Pavlovian response to that damn bottle."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pavlovian Response

**Author's Note:**

> Written for NCISDaily, March 5th prompt - lotion.

Sam would claim it wasn't planned. That he wasn't messing with G. But G knew better. G knew that Sam knew G had a ridiculously Pavlovian response to that damn bottle.

"Aw, come on," Sam groused as he dug through his duffle. "I know I put socks in here." He continued moving everything from the bag onto his desk in his search, inching the bottle closer to G's desk every time he shoved things over to make room for the next thing he pulled out of his bag.

G made a face as he went through his bag at his own desk. "It figures that you just need dry shoes and socks. I'm completely soaked."

"You tackled the guy in the kiddie pool," Sam pointed out. "If you'd let him get another six steps he would have come out the other side and I could have gotten him. But no, you take him down in a two-foot deep pool, soaking yourself and making me wade in after the two of you before that asshole could drown you."

"He wasn't gonna drown me," G muttered, resuming his search for dry shorts. He left alone the fact that Sam knew damn well, G wasn't going to let that bastard get one more step away if he could prevent it. Pool or no.

After another minute, Sam shouted triumphantly and held up a pair of dry socks before stuffing everything else back in his bag. "Hey G, catch."

G looked up in confusion, but raised a hand. He snatched the airborne article one-handed and before he even looked at it, he knew what it was by the feel. The small, innocuous-looking bottle of lotion that Sam had been tormenting him with.

He wasn't entirely sure when passing the damn thing back and forth had started to equal an invitation to spend the night together, but now, just looking at the damn thing made G hard. And in wet jeans that was _damn_ uncomfortable. He gave Sam a sideways look and strangled grin. "Uh-huh" he said to the implied invitation, before he shoved the lotion into his bag and grabbed his pile of dry clothes and headed off to change.

Half-way there he turned around, went back to his desk and shoved the lotion between his dry jeans and dry t-shirt. No one would notice if he was in the bathroom a couple extra minutes. And since their idiot at the boathouse still had another hour to stew before they even sent Nate in – nevermind how much longer it would be before he and Sam went in to play the heavy – he knew he'd need to take care this little issue himself this time.

He'd make Sam pay for messing with his head in public when they got back to Sam's place that night.


End file.
